DemyxLovesYou

i crawl on hands and knees though for the life of me cannot remember why i deserve to; dirt cakes underneath my fingernails and cold rain mattes my hair. dry throat, running nose. short of breath, short of time. too many thoughts. all the trees look the same. all the shrubs look the same. i can't tell weeds from flowers anymore. this is all i ever wanted - i left everything but a note; will they leave my room exactly as they found it? probably not. my mother loves space and my father doesn't know how to argue. she'll turn it into a studio and start painting again… out of grief and because now she has the extra money to do

SUNDAY - got depressed. wanted to die. had no pills, no booze. couldn't find a sharp enough razor. hadn't paid the gas bill so the oven wouldn't work. gave up. went to bed. MONDAY - decided it was stupid to kill myself when there are so many other idiots out there. TUESDAY - bought a gun. nothing fancy; just a revolver. a very ladylike piece, the man who sold it to me said. WEDNESDAY - made three seperate lists: those who would die. those who would just be maimed. those who i'd never harm. couldn't figure out which to put you on. THURSDAY - decided you didn't belong on either of those three lists because i don't car

if nostalgia is simply pain from an old wound, then memories must be scars - scars that last a lifetime. whenever i shut my eyes, all i hear is the sound of shoulder bones snapping - snapping under the weight of the world. it's so loud… like twigs under your feet.